"Sir!" exclaimed Winifred, rising. " "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly. Then, as he was trying to bite through the rope, I told him, ‘That’s for 107 Traci, motherfucker. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. Sheppard had been interred.
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